An ode to the Scots

It is Destiny Day for our friends the wee Scots,
The hour is here to place a cross in the box,
We'll love you no less if you choose to say bye,
But we may shed a tear when cutting the tie.

It has been quite a tale, the story to date,
And there's more to come if you've got time to wait,
But your moment is here, we're holding our breath,
Are you signing the warrant for our Union's death?

Was it really so difficult, that promise we made,
To love one another until in coffins we laid?
Weren't we there for each other in good times and bad?
Does the thought of maybe leaving not make you feel sad?

This island was our's for three hundred years,
Building industry, commerce, sharing high hopes and fears.
Repelling invaders, welcoming new friends,
What kind of message will our divorce send?

But we know you're proud people with your own history,
We're cramping your style and you want to be free.
With brave hearts and big dreams to the polls you will leap.
I hope the result is what you want, and cool heads we'll all keep.

You see, whatever your preference when picking your fate,
We'll still love you dearly, our best friend and mate.
And despite all the cruel words, despite all the muck,
For this difficult day we wish you good luck.